


The Caveman

by YuMe89



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Derek Hale, Banshee Lydia Martin, Derek Hale is Not a Failwolf, Derek has a life, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Full Shift Werewolves, Future Fic, Hallucinations, Kidnapping, M/M, Near Death, Original Character(s), Pre-Relationship, Serial Killer, Slow Build, Stiles Stilinski is Derek Hale's Anchor, and a phone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YuMe89/pseuds/YuMe89
Summary: -"Derek?", he heard Lydia ask, her voice was wavering and thin. "Where are you?", she threw in right after."Uhm, the grocery store?", Derek replied with a frown, immediately on edge because of her tone. Did she have a vision again? He hoped he really didn't have to be in the middle if shit hit the fan in Beacon Hills again. He finally had a life!"Thank god.", Lydia breathed, obviously relieved to know he was okay. "Please tell me you heard from Stiles.", she insisted, it only made him frown harder."No? I mean he send me a selfie with red eyes, I don't know, the captions said 'I'm the Alpha now' and a lot of wolf emoji's.", Derek told her, pushing the cart towards the vegetables."What?", now she just sounded confused and not so much frantic as before._
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 14
Kudos: 315





	The Caveman

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!💕
> 
> Whew, this almost ended very differently (as in no happy end).  
> Don't worry, this one has a happy ending.
> 
> Thanks to [scerek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scerek/profile) I could finally post the picture I made here! ^^ 
> 
> hope you enjoy and I would be extatic if you could tell me if you did! 💖💖

  
Their team had been after the Caveman for a while now. Yeah, Stiles still thought the name was utter shit, but the media came up with it, after someone leaked that the killer held his victims allegedly in a cave or basement with similar conditions to a cave, for around ten days more or less. They all died of thirst or starvation. The victims didn't have any bruises that indicate the killer was torturing them, other than their marks on both wrists, ankles and fading ones around their neck. It indicated that he was choking them until they lost consciousness.

It was brutal, deep abrasions, black and blue from desperate tries to get free and overall bloody, due to small cuts. What they knew was that it had to be old shackles of some kind, the iron found on all four limbs indicated as much, the same was used for every victim. As do the particles on their clothing. Those were the reason why they came to the conclusion it had to be a cave.

All five victims were found in or around Tennessee, not a single one gave them enough to pinpoint where they were taken and by whom. They all were dumped and left in an almost fetal position. Agent McCall was sure that they were forced into it and left that way until they died. Stiles didn't argue with that theory, he could see how it fit.

"It's very likely our unsub is a six foot five white male in his late thirties. He's fit enough to transport an adults body and moves around town without causing suspicion upon himself, he fit's into the crowd perfectly. He might be a social recluse, who get's overwhelmed by too many people when exposed to them for a longer period of time. He's able to grab his victims quick and efficient and dumps them in the same way. Never in the same town he took them, though." Rafael McCall said to his team, right before they were headed to Tennessee.

"We split into teams of two and talk to potential witnesses. His latest victim, Ella Krown has been found in Gamaliel Kentucky yesterday evening, which means he is crossing statelines again and also out to find another one," he continued with a serious face. "Unless he already has, but let's hope he didn't."

The flight there wasn't long and Stiles settled into his motel room once they got the keys. His partner Molly Greene, around Stiles age with deep red locks, was in the room next to his. Their task was to talk to the employee's of the supermarket and gas station. Out of all the towns this state had, he and Molly got fucking _Friendship._ Stiles was ninety-nine percent sure it was McCall's idea of a joke, because Molly and Stiles didn't get along at all. She was unable to pick up on Stiles humor and Stiles, well Stiles just hated her on principle. She was kind of a bully and in a way a meaner, female version of Jackson.

Of course McCall would get a rise out of them like that, just because he could.

Stiles really didn't want to go around town with the downer that was Greene, so he took the car and drove to the next gas station for a nice chat. He didn't think they would find their killer here, out of every town in Tennessee, but who knew, maybe the woman or man working there had seen the victims or someone suspicious.

He opened the door to the gas station and walked in, taking an assertive glance around. There were no customers right now and the cashier looked like he was restocking the tobacco. "Evening, I'm Agent Mieczyslaw Stilinski and I got a few questions, maybe you could help me out a bit." he held out his badge the way he was trained to.

"Am I arrested?" the guy said, looking shocked and wide eyed, but for some reason, Stiles couldn't shake the feeling that it was all an act. _Trust your gut,_ his dad had told him as advice when they had spoken about his career a few years ago.

"No, no, Sir, I just need some info and you, as an employee at a gas station might have seen or heard something." Stiles replied with a smile, not leaving the men out of his sight. He looked kind, but in a threatening way, whatever that even meant. "We're asking around, don't worry, you're not the only one." he reassured him. The men still looked shifty.

"Okay, what exactly are you looking for?" he conceded. His head was shaved and he had dark, sunken in eyes. Stiles supposed he was on the sickly side with such a light skin tone.

"First off, I need your name and address, so we can get back to you, if something else comes up." Stiles said, already his notepad and pen in hand. Most of his colleagues used their phone, but Stiles liked the feel of actually writing something down, it was a lot more final, giving his thoughts a direction and it was easier to get back to.

He talked to Hank Gruber for nearly half an hour and there were still no customers interrupting them. Stiles had to admit it was likely that there weren't many people coming around here, since Dyersburg wasn't that far away.

Stiles thanked Hank with a smile and gave him his card, before getting back to his car and to the motel to share the information with Molly. He might not like her that much, but he also didn't want her to be out of the loop, she was a shit human being, but a damn good Agent.

He had just shut his door, when the knock made him turn around again. "Molly, I was just about to-," he stopped himself after opening his door. "Mister Gruber, hi. What are you doing here?" Stiles asked, irritated, because he never told the man where he was staying at and sure as hell not which room number.

"I forgot to tell you something. Sorry that I followed you, but I don't have a mobile phone." he replied with a smile, it was sending shivers of unease down Stiles spine. Something was clearly not right with that guy.

"Sure, no problem, what did you want to add?" Stiles asked and watched Hank close the door behind him, without even looking back. Standing way taller than at the gas station. Stiles had thought he was around six feet, like himself, but now Gruber almost towered over him. It was intimidating.

Back at the gas station, Gruber had moved slow and timid, which was why he took Stiles by surprise when he grabbed him. "Should've just arrested me, Agent." was the last thing Stiles heard before he lost consciousness.

°

Derek was comparing the ingredients of two different peanut butter glasses. Peanut butter was peanut butter, but why did they all taste so different then? He would just choose the one that promised the least surprise ingredients.

His phone rang, when he put one of them back into the shelf and the other in his cart. Derek didn't look at the display and answered, in his thoughts he was halfway to the veggie and fruit stall. "Yeah?" he asked, waiting for whoever called him to speak.

" _Derek?_ " he heard Lydia ask, her voice was wavering and thin. " _Where are you?_ " she threw in right after.

"Uhm, the grocery store?" Derek replied with a frown, immediately on edge because of her tone. Did she have a vision again? He hoped he really didn't have to be in the middle if shit hit the fan in Beacon Hills again. He finally had a life!

" _Thank god,_ " Lydia breathed, obviously relieved to know he was okay. " _Please tell me you heard from Stiles._ " she insisted, it only made him frown harder.

"No? I mean he send me a selfie with red eyes, I don't know, the captions said 'I'm the Alpha now' and a lot of wolf emoji's." Derek told her, pushing the cart towards the vegetables.

" _What?_ " now she just sounded confused and not so much frantic as before. " _What is that even supposed to mean? Was there no context?_ " she asked and Derek shrugged, then he remembered that she couldn't see him.

"I don't know, Lydia, I didn't get it either. I think he made fun of me, but with Stiles it could be anything. Why are you asking? That was like two or three weeks ago. Haven't heard of him since, but that's not unusual." Derek responded, pondering if he should take bananas with him or the strawberries. Fuck it, he's taking both. And some apples too, because, why not? Lydia's next words stopped his thoughts on shopping immediately.

" _It is for me. I can't reach him. I woke up with a hollow feeling in my chest this morning and a tickling in my throat like I need to scream, I need to, but I can't, not yet. Everyone else is well and accounted for, but I don't know where Stiles is and it scares me so much._ "

Derek gripped the handle of his cart and inhaled slow and evenly, held his breath for a few seconds and exhaled the same way. He heard Lydia's breath hitch the same way he had just tried to prevent himself to. "Lydia, don't panic. Maybe he's just working and forgot to charge his phone." he wasn't sure whom he wanted to convince more right now.

" _He's practically glued to his phone, there is no way he would forget to charge it._ " she said, voice breaking. Derek really didn't want to know what she was feeling at the moment. It was probably like standing right under an anvil, waiting for it to fall down on you, no way to step to the side either.

"Did you call the Sheriff? Does he know yet?" Derek asked and started to put the fresh produce he had picked out back again.

" _Noah doesn't know about Stiles whereabouts either, but he told me he would contact Rafael and see if it's work related. I just hoped he was..." with you_ , she didn't say and Derek swallowed hard. He'd rather have Stiles here with him than where ever he seemed to be too.

It wasn't like they had a super thick friendship, they just occasionally texted each other or Stiles called him, when his team encountered some kind of shifter and Deaton couldn't be reached for any reason whatsoever. Of course Derek missed Stiles, the human was his anchor and he was a lot calmer when they talked, but he couldn't force Stiles to be closer to him either.

"I can go to Noah and speak to him, maybe he knows more now." Derek said, standing in line to get rung up. If he was honest, her anxiousness was getting to him and he already had enough of that by himself. He hoped Stiles wasn't in danger, there was too much they hadn't talked about yet, or better said, Derek hadn't told him about.

" _Yeah, do that. And please keep me in the loop, I'm going out of my freaking mind."_ , Lydia replied. They said their goodbyes and Derek paid for his groceries when it was his turn.

Being a functioning part of society meant, he was aware of the Sheriff's schedule and knew the man was at home right now. Derek didn't take a detour to put his groceries away in his apartment, he drove straight to Noah.

It took a moment for him to open, Derek could hear him curse in the bedroom, but when he did, he could make out a bag next to the door. "Where are you going?" Derek asked in lieu of a greeting.

"Tennessee. I just got off the phone with Rafael, Stiles just...he just disappeared." Noah said, voice cracking and eyes forming a light sheen of tears. This must be hell for him, reminding him of the Nogitsune all over again.

"You can't just leave, Noah. Beacon Hills needs you and if Stiles got away on his own from whoever tried to get him, he would come here, to you. You need to stay in Beacon Hills for him." Derek told him, watching on as some of the tears spilled over.

"I can't do this anymore. Why does it have to be my kid all the time? I just want him to be safe for a goddamn minute. Is that too much to ask? Always headfirst into danger, I-" Noah sobbed and cut himself off. He sounded angry and hurt, Derek could understand him, he wished for some sort of safety too.

Without thinking about it too much, Derek pulled the Sheriff into a hug. "It's going to be okay. I'll go. You know I can find him," he said in a shushing manner. "I will find him." he promised, hoping he wasn't lying, _God please, don't turn this into a lie._

They stayed that way until the Sheriff's sniffles died down and then he was let in and they sat down at the kitchen table. "As much as I despise Rafael, he's a good superior to Stiles and he told me they were after a serial killer in Tennessee," Noah rubbed his face with one hand, he looked tired. "They were supposed to ask around, find witnesses, who might've seen the victims or someone suspicious." he went on. "All pretty normal stuff they do all the time, but his partner was confused when she saw their car in the parking lot, but Stiles was nowhere to be found. At first she was sure he had just gotten another vehicle and didn't want to be stuck with her. They don't like each other much." he told Derek.

"I see, so she probably called McCall about it..." he supplied and Noah nodded.

"She was pissed he took off and saw it as a challenge. Not wanting to back down, she went around to talk to people, but when she asked if another Agent had been there before and none of those people confirmed it, she got worried and called McCall again, this time to ask for back up to find Stiles," Noah laughed humorlessly. "This kid even manages to make his enemies worry."

"Yeah...I never understood the very creepy bond Peter had formed with him, but he seems to genuinely care about Stiles and that is in and of itself a miracle. Peter doesn't care about anyone else other than himself." Derek said, a thoughtful frown on his face.

"McCall told me they started out from a small motel in Friendship Tennessee. Scott might be joining them too, when he get's off from work." Noah said and Derek realized he didn't even know how long Stiles had been gone.

"Sheriff...when did his partner come to the conclusion that Stiles was gone, not just working?" he asked.

"Five days ago," Noah answered eyes fixed on the tabletop. "They're almost certain the Caveman got him."

"The what now?" Derek asked irritated. What kind of name was that?

"Their serial killer, the media dubbed him Caveman, because he let's his victims starve in what might be a cave. Problem is, Tennessee got a lot of caves and even more of them are on private property and not on the maps. It's near impossible to find it." Noah told him.

Already standing, Derek held onto the back of his chair. "I need to go now. Lydia is too close to scream and we can take a guess as to why and for who. I can't stay here any longer."

"I'll drive you to the airport."

°

When Stiles opened his eyes again he could barely see in the darkness of the cave. If he twisted his head, he could make out the incoming sunlight against one of the walls. He might've lost track of a day or a half there, but he was sure he counted four days in total, since he woke up in here.

The position was killing him, his shoulders ached and his legs cramped. Stiles took everything back, this was torture in and of itself. He couldn't stretch his legs and his ass was already numb. With every slight move, the metal around wrists and ankles cut deeper into his flesh and made him wince.

If his body wasn't so dried out, he would cry, but his lips were already chapped like hell and his tongue was glued to the roof of his gums. He had considered breaking his thump to get out of the shackles, but the way they were bolted into the ground, meant he had to break both his hands to even free them. That wouldn't be any kind of solution, just another problem altogether.

The first day he had screamed for help until his voice was gone. As soon as it was halfway back, he had tried the same on the next day. He was more likely to attract some wildlife that would eat him, than someone who'd actually help him. And all it resulted in was a raw throat.

He closed his eyes again and leaned his head onto his knees. Being awake wouldn't help him anyways.

The next day came with more dizziness, headaches and a wish to just be able to lie on the side, just a few moments. He blinked around and caught sight of Derek sitting against the wall on the opposite. "De'ek?" he mumbled. "What're you doin' here?"

Derek shrugged and continued to watch him with interest.

"Please get me out of here," Stiles said and if he could produce tears he would. "Just rip the shackles off, please." He followed Derek with his eyes as he stood up and came over to crouch right in front of Stiles, head tilted curiously to the side.

"I can't do that." he calmly answered, it even had a slightly amused undertone.

"Why the hell not? You're a Werewolf, you can rip metal apart like it's paper! Just do it, I'm hurt, I need help, please, Derek!" he begged him with his scratchy rough voice. Why wouldn't he do that? It's so easy for Werewolves to free themselves from shackles like these, it's a cakewalk to do it for someone else!

Stiles face scrunched up and he pressed it against his knees again.

"Stiles, look at me," he heard Derek say and shook his head in answer. "Stiles."

"Why won't you help me? You always helped me, why not now when I need you the most?" Stiles swallowed a dry sob and refused to look at Derek.

"You were so smart. Look at me," Derek demanded and Stiles glanced up at him. He was wearing a different Henley, how was that possible? "Stiles, I'm not real, this is all in your head. You're not even talking right now." he said urgently, trying to make Stiles understand.

"Why would I hallucinate you? Why not someone helpful like Lydia? At least she's smart." Stiles replied petulantly, he didn't get why he would conjure up Derek.

"I get it, you're insulting me for not getting you out of here. But Lydia wouldn't be able to help either. All she'd know would be all you already knew. The question is: Why am I here with you?" Derek asked.

_Because..._

"...you saved me, when other people forgot about me. You come back for me and I come back for you. My sub consciousness knew..."

_... I wanted to see you one last time._

"I'm going to stay here, with you," Derek declared and sat in front of him. He was wearing something else again. Stiles realized that it were memories he had of Derek that came together. "Until it's over."

"Thank you."  
He wished Derek had smiled like this at Stiles for real once, but it was only that one time he flashed it at a Deputy to distract her. Tara. It had distracted Stiles just as much. Those weren't things he thought about often, Derek was his friend and he didn't seem interested in being anything more than an occasional texting partner.

That realization had hurt more than he thought it would, so he did what he was used to do in situations like this: ignore it until it went away.

°

Agent Rafael McCall was afraid, literally afraid they wouldn't find Stiles Stilinski in time. It felt like this one millisecond right before he shot Barrow, when Stiles had still been in BHHS, only, this millisecond had stretched on for days now and made him sick. He didn't want to know how Noah felt at the moment.

They had found his phone kicked under the motel bed, his FBI badge and gun were both in the small safe the room had. "Where are you?" he said out loud and looked around the room once more, like he would see that one detail that would point him in the right direction. The phone in his hand was useless, it only showed a dozen missed calls.

Agent Molly Greene looked through the open door inside and gave him a hesitant smile. "We wouldn't find his notes in there anyway," she said, indicating that she meant on the phone. "Stiles always wrote everything down. Maybe his notebook is here somewhere." She walked through the door and looked at Stiles personal things that were laid out on the small desk and the bed.

"I know," Rafael said frowning a bit as he watched her file through Stiles stuff. It felt wrong to let her do that, but he knew why he thought so. On some plane of consciousness, he blamed her for it, even though he knew it was most likely Stiles own fault for going somewhere on his own. But Rafael didn't want to give Stiles any fault, too afraid they wouldn't find him alive. He couldn't blame someone who wasn't here, who wasn't safe. "We didn't find it among his clothes or toiletries. It's not in the car, which means he took it with him."

"Or the person who took him got it." Greene supplied.

"Yes."

She crossed her arms and frowned, deeply in thought. "Could we-," she started, but lost the train of thought, as Rafael saw Derek Hale enter the motel room. "Uh." Molly brought out looking dazed. Rafael wasn't blind, he's able to see why a lot of people reacted that way to Hale. It was still unfortunate that he chose that moment, because he was sure Molly completely lost whatever she wanted to say.

"Hale." he greeted and they shook hands.

"Agent McCall," he replied curtly. He didn't even spare Greene a look. "Is this his room?" Hale asked and Rafael nodded. "Who had been in here aside from you two?" he wanted to know, his eyebrows were low and his eyes turned neon blue when he scrutinized the room.

"Just us two, I thought Scott would come here and I didn't want too many scents to overlay Stiles'." he explained and watched Hales eyebrows perform a complicated little dance.

"We're not dogs, we're Werewolves, which means we are still people," he responded, jaw ticking in mild anger. "I don't need to sniff on his clothes to find his scent, I memorized it a long time ago."

Rafael was stunned and didn't reply. He was still not completely sure what shifter could or couldn't do and they all were so different, that he sometimes mixed it up. It was something Stiles was good at remembering and picking apart.

"Someone has been here with him, his chemo signals are all over the place. He was surprised and on another level frightened and panicked," Derek told them. "Their scent leads out of here and to the parking lot." Rafael and Molly followed the Werewolf outside. "His car was parked here." he pointed at an empty parking space, the chances of finding the right car tracks after so many days was dwindlingly small.

Rafael watched Hale as he seemed to be thinking about something specific.

"My senses are better in my wolf form, but if I take off into the woods, you won't be able to follow with your car. Do you have a tracker?" Hale asked, brows raised in waiting.

"Standard issued, yeah. Why?" Rafael replied and went to his car. In the trunk were a few black carrying cases and he opened one. In them was surveillance equipment for an impromptu stake out. "Here," he held one of the trackers out that they used to put on cars if needed. "You want to stick it to your skin?" Rafael asked.

"It would fall off, once I shifted into my wolf form," Hale replied and then the nail of his right pointer finger grew into a claw, he looked around and then he cut into his arm stuffing the little chip under his skin and held it together so it could heal over it. "That way, it won't get lost."

"True." was all Rafael could say, too fascinated by what the Werewolf had done. It didn't look like it had been easy, he knew pain was still a thing, no matter how fast they healed. "What now?"

"I'm going back into the motel room and shift, you take my clothes with you and then you two will follow me." Derek Hale said, leaving no room for a discussion. For a moment Rafael had forgotten who had been in charge, when Hale talked shop. Yeah, he could see the appeal.

Molly had been awfully quiet next to him and he hoped she would pull her shit together as soon as Hale came out of the room again. That hope flew out the window, when the huge black wolf emerged. "Wow, this is so cool! Does he still understand us?"

The wolf send Rafael a flat look as he sat there in front of him. "I'm going with yes." he said pointedly and went back into the room, took Hales neatly folded clothes and his shoes and locked the door behind him. "I'm driving, you keep an eye on this." he told Molly and pushed a tablet in her hand. "If we lose direct sight, you tell me if there are hiking trails we can use."

"Yes, Agent McCall." Greene replied dutifully.

°

Derek was glad to be able to put a distance between him and that redhead that reeked of lust. Somehow it disgusted him more at the moment than on other times. It was already day number six and they didn't know if Stiles had eaten when he and his partner had arrived in Friendship.

Their time was running out and that woman objectified him, he really was pissed at her for that.

Running and concentrating on Stiles scent, as well as the one from the guy who took him, he followed his nose down a street that was right between acres and acres of cornfields and trees. They crossed a river and therefore Statelines as far as Derek could catch a glimpse of the marker.

Derek's paws pounded against the hot asphalt, he felt them burn slightly, immediately healing and then it happened over and over again. It put him in some kind of trance. Luckily the guy had used his car, so the Agents could follow Derek easily. He was a bit curious what they looked like to someone else. A huge black wolf, leading a black government issued SUV.

And then, somewhere far away from Tennessee, Derek headed right into the forest, when he caught the scent of the man who took Stiles. The whole place permeated the air with it. He was sick, his whole chemo signals smelled wrong. Death was there too, underlining it all.

_He's here, he's here, he's here.,_ went on in his head, hearing the heartbeat, he advanced on the man. Mid jump he changed halfway back and roared. The man in front of him stumbled to the floor and actually pissed his pants. "Where is he?" Derek growled, crouching over him, pinning him down by his throat. Derek let his eyes glow blue and menacing.

"Wh- Who- Who are y-you?" the man asked, smelling of fear and urine. His dark eyes were wide and scared.

"Where is Agent Stilinski? You better answer my question, because I asked you politely and I only do that _**once.**_ " he couldn't hold back the deep growl that resonated with his last word. His claws pricked into the mans skin and the smell of blood made him just more angry.

"The c-caves, he's in t-the caves." the guy answered, swallowing hard against Derek's hand, he even pointed out a direction.

"He'll better be alive, when I find him, or you won't be for long. And trust me, running away won't safe you. I will find you _everywhere._ " Derek promised showing him his fangs again in a cruel smile.

He could hear McCall and Greene approaching and let go of the man, turning towards the Agents in waiting. Like he had assumed, Agent McCall brought his clothes, although he forgot the shoes.

Damn, so close.

Derek took them out of his hands and put them on quickly, ignoring Greene until he couldn't anymore. "Please leave, your scent of arousal is everywhere and it makes me sick." Derek told her with a pinched expression.

"Agent Greene, please go back to the car and call for back-up and an ambulance." McCall instructed his Agent, whose face turned a bright red color. Now she smelled ashamed, which wasn't any less drowning, but at least it didn't make Derek sick anymore.

"You will hold onto that one, he's the man who took Stiles and he's probably the serial killer." Derek pointed at the man on the ground, who looked from one to the other, flinching as soon as one of them moved. It was satisfying to see him this afraid.

Without another word he turned towards where the man had pointed him and ran, hoping to catch onto a heavier Stiles-scent or his heartbeat.

He came upon a huge entry splitting into different paths and all he could hear was the echoing of a faint heartbeat everywhere. "Shit." he exclaimed with feeling.

Derek tried to shut out his hearing as much as possible and relied on his nose alone. Many people had died here, alone, afraid, hopeless. It was almost overwhelming to smell. If it hadn't been tainted by murder, the cave would've been a beautiful thing to see. There was an opening above him which flooded the cave with sunlight and he turned a corner only to take a blow to his chest as he looked at what was in front of him.

There was Stiles, all drawn in on himself, face resting on his knees. His heartbeat was weak, but it was still there, he was still alive. So he ran over, bare feet hitting the hard ground, little stones cutting into the soft flesh of his feet and was immediately by his side. "Stiles!" he called out and slowly the familiar amber eyes opened and tried to focus on Derek.

"'Tis nice you wait for me." Stiles croaked out and Derek looked at him puzzled.

"What are you talking about? I'm here to get you out." he said and the sad smile made his chest clench.

"Do I have t'go?" his mumbled words made no sense at all.

"Yes, you're going to a hospital and you'll be okay in no time, I promise." Derek replied, touching Stiles cheek and taking his pain. It was a lot, but this would at least take the edge off.

"But y'can't help me," Stiles said drowsy. "Hmm, this' nice." he commented.

Derek's other hand found the shackles and when he looked down he momentarily closed his eyes to hold himself right where he was and not run off to kill the bastard who did this. Stiles wrists and ankles were bloody and bruised. The wounds indicated that he had been in that position for the whole six days he'd been here. Stiles legs were probably stiff and going to hurt a lot as soon as he moved them.

He was cautious as he broke the shackles, not wanting to hurt Stiles any further. As he moved to Stiles side, he put the humans right arm carefully over his belly and pressed the other at his side, draining his pain all the while as he supported Stiles back with his left arm, sliding his right one under Stiles knees to carry him out of the cave.

"Are we goin' to see mom?" Stiles asked, face hidden in Derek's neck.

"No, not yet, you're going to see your dad and Lydia and your colleagues." the Werewolf responded slowly, careful to make sure Stiles could understand him and fully grasp what was happening.

Derek supposed Stiles thought he was dead now and he needed him to know that that wasn't the case. "R'you real 'tis time?" he slurred.

"Yes, I'm real," Derek said putting his face into Stiles hair. "You're alive."

Stiles hummed through his breaking voice. "Thank's."

"You're welcome." he simply replied into Stiles hair as he walked out of the cave and towards the others. There was already an ambulance waiting, he could hear it. The killer was gone, probably in the car with McCall.

When he broke through the tree line with Stiles, everyone was staring at him. He could hear Greene sob in relief, muttering to herself _"Thank god he's alive."_ from her seat in the car.

Agent McCall let out a long breath, like a huge weight just fell off of him, but Derek zeroed in on the ambulance. He walked over and put Stiles on the stretcher inside of it. "Don't force him to stretch his legs, he was in this position for six days. It might hurt him, if it's done too quickly," he told them, unsure what could be necessary to know for them. "No food, no water for the same amount of time."

The EMT's nodded, took all the information they could get on Stiles and got to work. "Are you driving with us?" one of them asked. He noticed how one of Stiles hands was twisted in his shirt.

"I guess so, yes." Derek replied with a fond smile.

°

The steady tone of the heart monitor lured him back into consciousness. The second he opened his eyes he realized he was _so fucking high_ and giggled. _Oh sweet morphine, you are the best discovery to this day,_ he thought, watching the drip of his IV for awhile.

That was, until he was made aware that he wasn't alone in the room. He looked to his left and saw Lydia and Derek on two chairs. Derek was asleep, but Lydia was looking at him with bright teary eyes.

"Don't you _ever_ dare to do this again!" she hissed then, her smile betraying her harsh words. "Stiles, I almost screamed your name, don't make me feel this way again." she added and Stiles pouted at her.

"I'm sorry." he said croaked for good measure. Lydia patted his arm softly and stood up.

"I'm getting you some ice chips for your throat. I think you'd be a fan of those." she said, nudging Derek awake, as she walked by him. He looked rumbled and for a second absolutely confused.

"You're pretty," Stiles said, unable to stop talking, even though it hurt him and he was croaking more than anything else. He needed to tell Derek, who was looking even more confused now. "You're so, _so_ pretty." he purred.

The Werewolf tried to smother a laugh that escaped out of the depth of his worry. "And you are so high, Stiles." Derek huffed amused.

Stiles smiled at the Werewolf. "Yeah, I know, it's awesome." he replied, voice breaking on a few words. "Hey, come closer," he told Derek and waited for him to lean forward. "Your eyes are a magical forest." he stated in an awed voice, causing the Werewolf to snort softly at the way Stiles mouth was gaping.

"Thank you." he heard Derek say next to him.

"Like the blue ones too." Stiles muttered, carefully and very slowly reaching out with one hand, just to touch his finger to Derek's nose. "Boop." he said and laughed hard at his own joke.

"You mean these?" Derek asked him and showed him the neon blue eyes.

"Blue's a pretty color too." Stiles said matter of fact. He watched as Derek's eyes turned back to his usual hazel ones. "You were real," he started to say then. "The last time you were real."

Derek raised his brows in question. "What do you mean?" he asked, eyes taking in Stiles expression.

"I saw you in the cave," Stiles replied with a rueful smile. God his throat burned so much, but he couldn't stop talking. "You were there too." He remembered Derek just sitting there, right in front of him, but still out of reach.

"Yes, I came to get you out." Derek replied, taking Stiles hand in his.

"No, you wouldn't help me before." Stiles pursed his lips, only slightly aware of Lydia in the doorway.

Derek looked like he suddenly realized something. "Stiles, that wasn't me. You were hallucinating."

He was handed ice chips and gladly slurped one into his mouth. It felt heavenly as the ice melted on his tongue. This can't be real, it's too good to be true. "This isn't real." he said out loud.

"Stiles, it's real. We are real and you are at the hospital." Lydia said.

"But why would I hallucinate Derek and then he would actually safe me? That doesn't make sense." Stiles croaked out with a frown, looking from Lydia to Derek. Both of them were sporting a sad expression. Oh, he didn't like those looks and he didn't like the way his morphine was slowly wearing off.

"Do you remember that time when Kate took me out of the loft and brought me to Mexico?" Derek asked him with a concerned face, eyes flitting over Stiles, who nodded as if in trance. "They shot me with Wolfsbane bullets at the loft and for a moment, I was somewhere else, but it was all in my head," he explained. "I was questioning myself if I was awake or dreaming, because Kate wasn't dead. And I was in the boys locker room in my head, but I wasn't alone."

Stiles saw how Lydia looked sharply at Derek.

"You were with me. And you told me that in dreams, we had extra fingers and I remember taking your hand and counting, there were extra fingers, so I woke up." Derek said. "I saw you, because you're my anchor, you're what keeps me human."

This revelation shocked Stiles and all he was able to do at the moment was to stare at Derek.

"I told the nurses that you're awake, so...the doctor might arrive here soon." Lydia broke the silence, staring down at Stiles comforter. Stiles wasn't able to figure out the look on her face.

Instead of a doctor, Agent McCall and Greene entered the room. Molly's eyes were puffy, like she had cried not that long ago and she hung back at the door, not ready to intrude apparently. Rafael didn't have such thoughts though.

"Once you're out of here, you will work with me and only me and so help me Stiles, if you make one move I don't approve of, I'll kill you myself." Rafael said, eyes blazing with anger as he pointed at Stiles.

Someone was holding his arm and the pain went away, leaving Stiles loopy again. All hail to wolfy magic pain drain powers! Derek was so awesome for doing this.

"Sir, yes Sir." Stiles slurred in answer, giving him a sloppy salute with his other hand, accidentally bumping into his head with too much enthusiasm. "Ow."

He could hear Agent McCall sigh heavily.

"Is he okay?" Molly asked, before finally entering the hospital room.

Stiles beamed at her. "I'm so, _so_ okay, you've got no idea." he told her and saw how Molly's eyes flitted over to Derek, who was still holding his arm, but not draining pain away anymore. There wasn't any left at the moment.

"Yeah, I can see why." she replied and Stiles was sure he heard Lydia snort this time, but when he looked at her, her facial expression didn't give anything away. It was possible his motions were too slow to catch anyone's expression in time though.

°

He was pretty sure Stiles was not able to really grasp what they were talking about right now, as Rafael took in his uncoordinated movements and slurred speech. He looked too high to have an actual conversation.

Stiles eyes widened comically all of a sudden and he stared at Rafael. "What about Hank?" he asked and Rafael frowned.

"Who?"

"Hank...Gruber. The man."

"What man?"

Stiles started to giggle. "The Caveman," he delivered with wiggling fingers. "You know, the one who got me. Did you find him?" he asked, looking a little more lucid for a moment.

"Oh yeah, he's in custody right now." Rafael replied matter of factly.

"Derek Hale caused him to pee his pants." Molly supplied and resulted in another giggle fit of Stiles. Rafael would never admit it, but it made him happy to see Stiles so light hearted. Alive.

He watched as his high Agent booped Hale's nose. "You, my furry friend, are awesome. So awesome and pretty." Stiles said with a mischievous smile. Hale's ears looked a lot more red than a moment ago. Lydia Martin casually fed Stiles another ice chip.

"True that." he heard Agent Greene agree under her breath as she stood next to him.

"Stiles, I have to ask you, do you want to recover here, or do you want to be transported somewhere else? Maybe Beacon Hills?" Rafael asked him, watching Stiles pull an overly expressive thinking face.

"I don't want to leave my morphine." his young Agent replied after a while with a huge pout. Maybe he wasn't ready for those questions yet either, Rafael concluded.

"Beacon Hills got pain medication too," Lydia Martin told her friend. "And your dad would be there too. And Derek."

"Ooh...," he prolonged. "Does my dad know?"

"That some crazy Serial Killer kidnapped you? Yes, of course he knows, you idiot." Lydia answered. "And he's also aware that you're in a hospital right now. Agent McCall probably wants to know if you want to transfer to Beacon Hills Memorial, so your dad could safe himself the trip here." She wasn't wrong, Rafael did want to know for that exact reason.

See, he didn't like Noah, but he didn't hate him either.

"That were a lot of words." Stiles said, after staring quietly at Lydia for a moment before he blinked slowly like a disorientated owl. "But yeah, I wanna see my dad."

So of course they arrange for him to be transported back to Beacon Hills the next day. He didn't need to stay in the hospital though, if he went to the doctors appointments. Rafael didn't like that one of his best Agents was on sick leave now, but he wouldn't have wanted to see Stiles being the latest victim either and bury him alongside other Agents who have died up until now.

°

Stiles had been recovering in his old room for over a week now, mourning his shortsightedness on the matter, because he didn't have anything in his childhood home anymore. No games, no books, no laptop. It had been a dull week, when he was finally able to move without hurting.

Derek dropped by once and Stiles felt so awkward that they apparently both decided to stay away from each other for a while longer. Stiles was embarrassed he'd said all those things out loud, for everyone, but especially Derek, to hear.

The morphine had betrayed him hard, Stiles didn't like it anymore and never wanted to see it again.

Also, Lydia was mocking him for thirsting after Derek all this time when he'd told her he didn't even like him that much as a person. Which had been a big fat lie, though the less Lydia Martin knew about Stiles deeper emotions the better.

He had just settled on the couch downstairs to watch whatever the TV would give him, when the doorbell rang and he sighed. The timing couldn't have been worse.

Stiles stood up again and went over to get the door, since his dad was currently at work, he was the only occupant. He threw the door open and stared back at Derek, who was giving him a cautious look. "Hi." Stiles greeted, unsure what else he was supposed to say.

"Hey," Derek returned with a hesitant smile. "Can I come in?" he gestured to Stiles as if to show him he needed to get out of the way.

"I don't know, can you?" Stiles automatically replied, which resulted in a flat look from Derek. "Sorry, it's second nature. Yes, please come in," he told him, backing away from the door and leading the way to the dining room. "Want something to drink?"

"No, I'm good," Derek replied, taking a seat at the table. "How do you feel?"

Stiles was already halfway to the kitchen to get himself something to sip on. He needed something to do with his hands. "Oh, uh, better. I don't need the pain medication anymore. I'm probably able to go back to work soon." he said and mentally kicked himself in the ass.

"Good, that's great." he heard Derek reply. Stiles grabbed himself a bottle of water and returned to the dining room to sit across from the wolf.

"So...what brings you here?" Stiles asked, raising his brows curiously. It was possible he needed help with something or other. And Stiles was the expert after all, apart from Deaton. A long way apart from him, he was still not sure how much Deaton really knew and how much knowledge he had to catch up to when it came to that particular Druid.

Derek's expression had changed immensely after their short journey from the door to the dining room. "Just...wanted to check up on you. Hoping we could talk about it, if you wanted to."

For a second there Stiles was a bit confused what exactly Derek wanted to talk about. He told him as much. "Talk about what?" or rather asked. Same thing, anyway. He took a sip of his water as he waited for an answer.

Derek shrugged. "Anything." he supplied helpfully.

Stiles fixed him with a deadpan stare to get him to speak up a bit more.

"About what you said at the hospital, but you obviously want to ignore it and I can understand that. Though we're different around each other and I want to know how to fix that." Derek gave in and told him, gesturing between them.

"Derek, seriously? I was drugged up and everyone and their grandma knows you're attractive. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, that wasn't my intention, but can we just ignore that I made a fool out of myself? Again. Just shelf it under _Embarrassing Stiles Stuff_ like everyone else." Stiles replied, hoping they could get past this.

The frown seemed now permanently etched to Derek's expression as he looked at him in silence for a long time after Stiles has finished speaking. "You didn't. Make me uncomfortable I mean. I was flattered. And I wanted to..." Derek seemed to catch himself and shook his head slightly. "You know what, forget it, you're going back to DC soon. You're right. We'll resume our friendship as it always had been."

Stiles was fiddling with his water bottle and tried to guess where Derek had been going with moments prior. "...okay?" he agreed, still unsure of what had just happened. He could be wrong but had Derek implied they shouldn't be friends before changing his mind? Had he ruined it so badly? But Derek said he was flattered! That didn't make sense, unless he had said that for Stiles benefit, so he wouldn't feel bad about it.

Derek stood up, pushing himself away from the table in the process. "I should probably go. Yeah, good we could clear this up." he remarked curtly. He was in the hallway to the front door before Stiles was even up, but it made sense, he knew his way around the Stilinski house after all.

It felt like he had lost something he wouldn't be able to get back and let out a frustrated huff, because he didn't know what exactly was gone. He was probably broadcasting the feeling by now, because Derek turned halfway to look at him, when he entered the hallway, seeing him standing by the door already.

After taking in Stiles expression, Derek's gaze softened and then he frowned again, like he was arguing with himself. Stiles knew the feeling all too well, but he had never witnessed it with Derek.

When the Werewolf turned around fully to Stiles, he figured he had come to a conclusion. "I came here to ask you out," he admitted, shocking Stiles into silence. "But that's stupid, because you live across the country and my life is here now," Derek said. "And I don't want to miss you all the time."

Now that he could place the feeling he wished he could forget what it was again. "As I see it, you'll miss me either way," Stiles countered. "Trust me, I know. It's just hurtful to know you wouldn't even want to try."

"You didn't either."

"Derek, people like you reject people like me on the daily. I wasn't up for that. Not after I came recently to the conclusion that I probably won't get rid of my feelings for you any time soon. I mean, I conjured up a very vivid and realistic hallucination, because I wanted to see you so badly just once more before dying. That's so fucked. That whole experience was a new episode of freaky that I didn't need in my life," Stiles replied, walking over to Derek. "I was so ready to let go and you were there with me and it felt right. But I'm not dead and you, the real you, found me. You obviously feel something for me, but you're too afraid to take that next step, to try at all. Why?"

He inclined his head, thinking of an answer probably. "The distance for one, but if we were to try this, I don't think I'd be able to go back to being friends if it doesn't work out."

Stiles was now only a few feet away from Derek and gave him a questioning look. "What do you mean? You tolerate Peter, Peter around you. You're able to talk to him like a normal person, even though he betrayed you _multiple times._ And, and Lydia and I are best friends, even though we dated. You still talk to Braeden like nothing changed. What makes the difference here for you?"

Derek sighed heavily. "You. You're different. I care about you more than I let myself think about for a long time. You're my anchor Stiles. When Lydia called me, asking me if I knew where you were and telling me she had a bad feeling about it, I almost wolfed out right there in the supermarket. Losing you would be even harder if we were anything other than friends."

Stiles blinked at him slowly, apparently taking in what Derek had just said. "I see...so you're a coward, got it."

He growled at that accusation. "I'm not a coward." Derek stated, but Stiles waved his reply away like it was nothing.

"Yes, you are. You'd rather ruin something before it even started just out of fear. It tells me how high I rank in your life. And it's fine." Stiles said, but nothing about his scent or body language was fine. Derek had hurt him, badly even. "You should go now." his tone was resigned.

Derek was trying to find the right words, but ended up heaving a sigh and turning away from his friend.

"Oh, and Derek? The next time I go missing, you better not go looking for me. Scott or Malia can do that too." Stiles voice was cold, but the underlying pain Derek could probably sense told him all he needed to know.

"You plan on getting kidnapped?" Derek asked before he could stop himself. One hand on the door handle, ready to go.

"I plan on not giving a fuck." he replied and watched Derek nod once and then leave, this time for real. The door closed with a finality Stiles didn't want to place right now.

°

After all this time, anger was washing over Derek and giving him a head rush. _This stupid idiot, I could...,_ he stopped his train of thought as his hands balled tightly into fists. What right had Stiles to call him a coward? He wasn't a coward! Not once in his life.

Derek came to a halt in front of his car, breathing heavily as if he had been running for hours. He tried to stop himself, but he did look back and involuntarily tuned in into the Stilinski household. At first it was too quiet for him to hear anything and he wanted to open his car already to leave and get back to his own apartment.

Then, just like in the hallway with Stiles scent that made him turn, he could now hear it: a quiet sniffle and hitching breath. Like Stiles was trying to cry as quietly as possible and that realization let all the anger Derek had felt dissipate at once.

It was so obvious in hindsight that Stiles low self-esteem had brought him to the conclusion that Derek thought Stiles wasn't worth the trouble in the first place. And Derek had involuntarily confirmed it with his decision that had only rooted in self-preservation.

He didn't want to lose someone else and definitely not Stiles, but now he saw how stupid he was himself.

Derek turned and went back to the house, opened the door- because of course it wasn't locked- and then stood a few feet away from Stiles, who was staring at him with wet eyes and a shocked look. "What-" he started, but Derek didn't let him get any farther. He closed the distance and pulled him into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," Derek quickly supplied. "You were right, I'm a coward." he could feel Stiles hands as he gripped his shirt. He was still afraid this would all blow up in their faces and leave nothing but pain in its wake. "Let's try this."

Stiles sniffed once, probably to be able to talk without snot running out of his nose. "Is this a pity thing?" he asked and Derek could tell it wasn't meant harsh or insulting, it was just to check if Derek really meant it.

"No," he simply responded. "I probably needed the air to think this through and I came to the conclusion that I don't want to let you leave my life like this. Not before we tried."

"Are you sure?" the human asked and tilted his head back to look at Derek. He couldn't stop himself and wiped Stiles tears away with his thumbs.

"Yes, I'm sure," he told him. "Screw Beacon Hills, I can move away anytime."

Stiles leaned back in and rested his forehead on Derek's shoulder as the Werewolf tightened his arms around him. "Can we stay like this a moment longer?"

"Of course."

*

Noah has had a long shift and couldn't wait to get out of his uniform and on his recliner to calm his nerves with useless trash TV. The car in his driveway should've been the first clue, but ignorance was bliss when one had a mission.

A mission to chill the fuck out.

That was of course the reason why he found Stiles and Derek cuddling on the couch, tv a soft background as they slept peacefully. That was the second clue.

The third lay in the way Derek was holding his son and how Stiles held Derek in return. "Oh boy." he sighed silently. Saying goodbye to his end of shift plans and decided to just head to bed early.

Noah really hadn't the strength anymore to deal with those idiots. He had heard from Lydia what went down in the hospital and everyday Stiles was here, he waited for something like this to happen.

Sure, it had to be the one day Noah was dead on his feet and had no social capacity left to talk to people. Tomorrow would be another day and they could talk about it then. Now, his bed was calling him in the sweetest voice he'd ever heard.

It was one of the first nights Noah fell asleep quickly and deep, knowing his son was safe, not only because he was in his childhood home, but also because an over-protective Werewolf was sleeping next to him.

His kid was here, he was safe and probably happy. Noah smiled in his sleep and hugged his cushion close to him. If only Claudia could witness it with him, she would be so happy right along with their son.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. 💖


End file.
